MARRYING MR. RIGHT (The Brides of Hilton Head Island Book 3) (18 page)

              Eyes lustrous, Taylor’s lips were so swollen and wet. “I’ll swallow, if you want me to.”

              “Let me make love to your tits.”

              “How do you do that?”

              “Here. Let me show you.” After Zeke took off Taylor’s coat and removed her shirt and bra, he laid her on her back. Curiosity shone in her sensual eyes as he climbed on top of her.

              Knees pressing into the wood, Zeke clenched his shaft and slapped it between the alcove between Taylor’s breasts. Beholding her tender gaze, he scooped her swollen mounds with erect nipples in his hands and started grinding. “This is called titty-fucking, my wife,” he said, his stem sliding back and forth between her boobs.

              “I like it, Zeke.” Taylor placed her small hands on the outside of Zeke’s and helped him mash her breasts harder to his rod. Breasts clutching his tool tight, Zeke’s squeezed his butt cheeks.

              Zeke’s balls tightened. The head of his erection popped from the top of her breasts and knocked into her chin, then disappeared back between her smothering boobs. His bulbous head protruded from the top of her tits again, hitting her chin. His member burned into her tingling skin. “I’m. Oh. Uh. Arrrgh!” Hot cum shot from Zeke’s shaft onto Taylor’s chest. His spunk came close to hitting her face.

              Taylor cracked up laughing. She looked at the white sperm clinging to her chest. “Ooo. You had a lot in you.”

             
Damn, that was good
. Zeke’s shaft started shrinking. “Thanks for letting me make love to you in here. I know it’s not the most ideal place, but it’s—”

              “Adventurous. Spontaneous. Romantic.” She playfully hit his arm. “You done got me horny, babe.”

              “Oh, yeah? I can fix that.”

              “How?” she asked, easing up on her elbows. Zeke’s white cum rolled down the crack between her breasts to her stomach. He pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiped the sticky sperm off.

              He tossed the tissue to the corner. “I can show you better than I can tell you.” Zeke rolled Taylor’s jeans and panties down her thighs, then tossed them aside. Putting a hand to her shoulder, he gestured for her to lie back down.

              With his head positioned over her vagina, Zeke pulled back the hood of her plump sex. His mouth watering, he stuck out his tongue and licked her delicious center. Taylor writhed. “Mmm,” she moaned. Bucking on his face, she grabbed the sides of his head and said, “I sure do love you.” Groaning, she wrapped her legs around his head, scraping her erect clitoris on his teeth.

              “I bet you do love me.” Zeke curled the tip of his tongue over her clitoris, inserted two fingers in her heat.
Mmm.
She tasted good. A salty and sweet taste coated his probing tongue.              Circling her hips, Taylor panted. Her juicy labia fluttered softly against his lips. Slick juices slipped from her opening onto his tongue. His nose. His chin.

              He could eat this pussy all day, every day, Zeke thought, his dick elongating down his thigh. “Oh, Zeke. I’m cumming. Oooo.” Cooing and bucking on his face, Taylor squeezed the sides of his head hard. She sucked in a bout of air. “Ahhh.” Licking her from clit to slit, a load of liquid squirted from Taylor’s channel and soaked his face.

              “You were horny,” Zeke said, coming up for air.

              Taylor snickered. “Whew. I guess I had a lot in me, too.”

              Zeke dragged his hand over his drenched mouth to wipe it. “Yes. You had more than me.”              

              “Liar!”

Chapter Nineteen

             
N
oise filled
the Ocean Coast
Group care facility, about thirty minutes away from Hilton Head, in a small town called Beaufort. Inside the facility near Paris Island, Zeke sat at a table tutoring a high school teenager by the name of Jaheem Parker. Using his fingers to count, Jaheem reworked the math problems on the test he’d failed.

              Elbow on table, Zeke stared at the handsome African American kid with a mini afro.
Handsome young fellow.
Zeke stated, “Why don’t you try using mental math, like I showed you on Monday?”

              Sixteen-year-old Jaheem sucked his teeth. “Man, after the day I had in school, my mental ability is shot to fucking hell.”

              Zeke’s brows dipped into an affronted frown. “Hey, watch your language. Use better words when you talk to me.”

              Jaheem’s lips turned under, his eyes rounded with regret. “Sorry, Mr. Balfour. I promise I’m going to work on my language. Okay?”

              He looks like he’s really sorry.
“All right. I hear you. I told you, you can call me Zeke.”

              Holding the tip of his pencil to his math paper, Jaheem nodded. “You come here all the time, Zeke. You tutor me, and you come to my basketball games. Why are you so nice to me?”

              Warmth filled Zeke’s heart as he looked at Jaheem. “Because you deserve it. You’re a good kid, Jaheem.”

              Fingers spread out before his face, Jaheem kept counting his fingers. “Don’t nobody think I deserve help but you. Everybody, especially my teachers, think I ain’t gon’ be shit when I grow up.”

              “Watch your language,” Zeke reminded Jaheem.
This kid has a serious cussing problem.

              Eyes wide, Jaheem slapped his hand over his mouth, then lowered it to the table. “Sorry. I mean, they think I’m not going to be anything when I grow up. But I’m going to do what you told me to do. I’m going to work real hard to prove all the naysayers wrong. I’m going to study my behind off and earn a scholarship.”

              “As long as you keep that attitude, you’ll be successful, Jaheem. Always remember, with hard work and determination, you can do and be anything you want to be.” Zeke held out his fist, and Jaheem bumped it with his own fist.

              Jaheem’s dark lips smiled across his face. “Man, you a good role model. When I become rich like you, I’m gon’ volunteer and donate to shelters, too. Just wait and see. I’m gon’—”

              “Kiss my ass!”
a young kid shouted.

             
Zeke looked up to find a chair flying over his head. He ducked, and the chair crashed into the wall in front of him.
What the hell?!
Instinctively, Zeke bolted from the table and ran up to the young kid.

              Tempted to snatch the little young boy standing in front of him, pouting up, Zeke’s fists balled. Zeke glared down at the honey brown-complexioned kid with big, curly hair. “Hey kid, you almost cut my head off with the chair. What’s your problem?”

              Frowning, the kid sucked his teeth and took a bold step forward. “It’s gon’ be you, dude, if you don’t get out my way. I just kicked Torrance’s ass, and I’ll kick yours, too!”

              “Oh, it’s like that, huh?” Zeke snapped.
I’ll put his skinny behind over my lap and snap him in half.

              Sticking his tiny chest out, the young boy jutted his chin. “Yeah. Move, mister.”

              Zeke had to calm his nerves down before speaking further to the kid, who was obviously determined to have an argument tonight.
Count backwards, Zeke. Ten, nine, eight…calm your nerves. The kid may have a good reason to behave like this.
Zeke’s temper quickly dissolved. “Look, I don’t know what happened to get you this fired up, but—”

              “There you are!” Marva Donaldson yelled, scampering toward them, pointing her finger at the kid in front of Zeke. “Evan! Come here! You’re in big trouble.”

              Evan stomped his foot. “Man, I hate it here!”

              Marva fisted her hips and pointed in Evan’s face. “Now you look here, young man. I know times have been hard for you, but that doesn’t give you the right to punch someone in the face and call people names.”

              Evan rolled his eyes. “Torrance hit me first. You just happened to catch me hitting him back.”

              Marva took a deep breath. “What started the fight?”

              Evan yelled, “He called me an Oreo, and I got mad.”

              Marva stated, “That’s nothing to get mad about, Evan.”

              Anger burned inside Evan’s brown eyes. “It is if you’re mixed.”

              “Mixed with what?”

              Big tears settled on the rims of Evan’s dark brown eyes, making Zeke feel sorry for the young boy. “Black and white. Just in case you haven’t noticed, lady, I’m biracial! Ever since I got here, they’ve been teasing me about my complexion. And I’m tired of it. Fucking tired!” Evan took off running down the hallway.

              Marva threw her hands up in the air. “Evan! Come back here! They don’t pay me enough to do this job.”
Hell, I don’t get paid anything to be here, but you don’t see me complaining.
Eyes peering down the hallway, Marva shook her head. “Now I’ve got to go find him.”

              “I’ll go speak with Evan,” Zeke offered.

              Marva sighed. “Thanks, Zeke. He could probably use a man to speak with. Thanks.”

              “Don’t mention it. I’m happy to help.” Zeke jogged down the hallway, rounded the corner, and went to the end of the hallway. Standing next to a closed door,               Evan’s soft cries sailed inside Zeke’s ears. Zeke pulled open the shut door of the closet to find Evan sitting in the dark, crying his eyes out.

              “Go away!” Evan yelped.

              Sorrow dulled Zeke’s heart. Praying for God to give him some encouraging words to share with the kid named Evan, he walked inside the closet, shut the door, and sat beside him.               Zeke cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for the way the kids treat you here. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. But I’d like to listen to how you feel, if you want to share.”

              Evan sniffed. “I said go away. They already told me you were rich, so you could never understand what I’m going through. Never.”

              Zeke stated, “I may be rich, but like you, I’ve had problems.”

              Evan clucked his tongue. “Yeah, right. What happened to you? Your maid didn’t bring you any tissue to wipe your ass?”

             
This kid is a lot like Jaheem was when I first started mentoring him. Tough and angry, he uses bad language, too.
“No. My problems were worse than that.” Zeke pulled his cell from his pocket and turned on the light. The dark closet vaguely brightened.

              Evan lifted his wet face from his palms. His sniffles slowed. Legs bent at the knees, back to the wall, he laced his hands behind his head. “Like what?”

              Thinking about his son Zavier, Zeke’s body tensed. “Like I had a son, and some cruel person kidnapped him. I never got a chance to see my son’s face before he was stolen. But if I had seen his face, I bet he’d look a lot like you.”

              Evan’s face scrunched. Through wet pupils, he looked Zeke up and down. “Oh, no. Your son wouldn’t look nothing like me, mister.”

              “I disagree.”

              Evan’s head jerked back. “How you figure that, mister? You’re all white!”

              Zeke chuckled. “Yeah, but the woman that had my son was a Black lady. So you see, my son, wherever he is, is biracial like you.”

              Evan’s voice lowered as he said, “So you never found your son, mister?”

              Zeke’s chest ached. “No. He’s still missing.”

              Evan released a heavy sigh. “You’re right. We both have problems. Both of us are fucked up.”

              At first, Evan’s straightforwardness made Zeke cringe. Then out of nowhere, Evan’s admittance threatened to make him chuckle. “Hey. Let’s make a deal.”

              Seemingly still aggravated, Evan rolled his eyes. “I don’t make deals.”

              “Well, you’ve probably never been made a deal like this.” Evan gave a nonchalant shrug. Zeke continued. “The deal is…if you come out of the closet with your head held high and try your hardest to ignore those fools teasing you, I’ll come here and pick you up on Saturday and take you wherever you’d like to go.”

              Evan’s eyes brightened. “Really?!”

              Zeke offered Evan a sincere smile. “Yes, really.”

              Evan folded his arms across his chest. “Even if I want to go ice skating to the new arena all the kids are talking about? You’ll take me there?” 

              Zeke ruffled the dark brown curly hair on Evan’s round head. “Yes, I’ll even take you ice skating,” he said, holding out his hand.

              Evan gave him a firm shake. “We’ve got a deal, mister.”

“HOW DARE
Taylor treat me like crap in my own house, questioning me,” Katherine muttered under her breath as she descended the staircase inside her mansion. The mansion every woman in Hilton Head Island and around the world wish they had the privilege of living in. The home every living woman wished they’d someday acquire and leave to their children. And their children’s children. 

             
Damn right I didn’t tell Zeke she was alive. It wasn’t my place
. Fury burned Katherine’s insides. Turning inside the kitchen, the bottom of her long dress swept the floor.
Insinuating I should be worried if she tells Zeke. Apparently, Taylor doesn’t know who she’s messing with.
  A wicked thought entered Katherine’s mind. “I guess I’m going to have to teach the prissy bitch a lesson.”

              “Talking to yourself again, I see.” Colton snuck up behind Katherine.

              She whirled.

              Quiet stillness lurked in the air as Katherine looked at her husband, Colton. The man who’d once been the love of her life. Until recently, he’d been the love of her life, all her life. But when he made Zeke CEO of
Balfour Enterprises
, the love she had for her husband vanished. No one treated her son Antonio like a bastard. Zeke was the bastard; not Antonio.

              Clearly able to see it was a thin line between love and hate, disdain for Colton stabbed Katherine’s heart. “Yes, I’m talking to myself,” she shrugged. “And?” 

              “And did you answer yourself, too? They say if you answer yourself, you’re certifiably crazy,” Colton teased.

             
I can show you how crazy I am. Keep messing up.
“Don’t you ever have anything nice to say about me?” Katherine asked.

              Colton stalked up to Katherine and pecked her lips. “Yes. I love you.”

              Katherine rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. The only person you love is Zeke.”

              “Here we go.” Colton pulled open the refrigerator, grabbed his medicine and a bottle of water. Popping the cap off the water bottle, he shook his head negatively.

              “Don’t you ‘here we go’ again me. It’s true. You proved who you love when you made Zeke CEO. What you did hurt Antonio to the core, Colton. To the freaking core. Antonio hasn’t been himself since you put him second-in-charge, and not first. It’s not too late for you to go back and change it, if you want.”

              Colton tossed his medication in his mouth and gulped down the entire bottle of water. Releasing a loud belch, he tossed the empty bottle in the trash can. “You said the magic words, Katherine. If I
want
to change it, I can. Well, I don’t want to put Antonio in charge. Nor will I. Zeke is the CEO of Balfour now. The sooner you and Antonio accept my decision, the better off this family will be.”

              Curses swooned around inside her head. “You’re so cold and heartless, Colton.”

              “Snap it shut, woman.” At the sound of his stern voice, Katherine briefly snapped her lips together.

             
You’re going to regret your decision, Colton.
“You still love her, don’t you, Colton?”

              Colton shook his head. “Please don’t start with that again.”
Bing.
Colton’s cell chirped, signaling a text had just come through. He pulled the chair from beneath the dining table, pulled his cell from his pants pocket, and using his thumb, he tapped the screen. 

              Sick and tired of being sick and tired, Katherine marched up to Colton, snatched the cell from his grip, and held it high in the air. “You’re not getting your cell back until you answer my question.”

              Colton gave Katherine a hostile stare. “You seriously don’t want to do this, Katherine. Now give me my cell back.”